My Journey Back To You

Wednesday, October 11^th, 2024

Dear Leo,
                  Every waking moment, my thoughts are consumed by you. When can I see you next? How can I regain custody? What job can I get that will give me the best shot in court to reunite with you? How quickly can I become fluent in Italian? Every night, I dwell on an endless stream of anxiety and worries, just praying that soon my suffering will be over and I can reunite with you. I cry every day from the pain of being stripped away from you. Yesterday, the social workers only increased my visitation time with you by thirty minutes, so now I can see you for an hour and thirty minutes each week. When she told me that, my heart sank to my stomach, and I cried. I always try to hold in all my emotions in front of the social workers because any minute display of emotion is critiqued mercilessly, but I couldn’t help it.
                  For six months, I’ve been aching for more visitation. For six months, my body has been physically deteriorating from the heartache of losing you. My tears cascaded down my cheeks, but I kept a fake smile plastered on my face while I handed you off to your father. Every fiber of my being was screaming at me to hold on to you. To never let you go. You reached out to me while in your dad’s arms, and I held your little hand, wishing I could pause time and hang on to you forever. The feeling of letting you go and watching you walk away with your dad felt like my soul was being ripped out of my body. I stood there under the cold fluorescent lights of the government building with that fake smile still plastered on my face because the social worker was watching my face intently, seemingly waiting for my mental collapse.
                   I gave her a curt goodbye, walked into the parking lot, and burst into an eruptive cry so powerful my body shook. I stood there, hyperventilating, with a stream of hot tears blurring my vision as I watched your father’s car peel out of the parking lot. And on I went crying just like that all the way home on my bike. And I continued to cry after walking into my apartment. Several hours passed, and yet the crying would not subside. It was as if a great dam of pent-up grief from the last six months had fully erupted, and all my body could do was release it in a wave of steaming tears. After I had finished crying, I walked over to the mirror. The girl who stared back at me was unrecognizable. My clothing looked like a blanket, barely clinging to my skeletal frame. Over the past months, I have lost 60 pounds due to the stress and sorrow of losing you. My eye sockets were puffy and swollen from the tears
                  For 6 weeks, I’ve had this raging wet cough that refuses to dissipate. I can tell my body is failing me. When your father took you away from me, it was as if he had surgically removed a vital organ from my body. The social workers said this entire process could take years. I can’t even comprehend the thought of being separated from you for another six months, let alone multiple years. I don’t think my body could continue to sustain itself. Every day feels like a fistfight with my heart and mind. I cling to the hope that someday we will be reunited. That hope sustains me and motivates me to keep on trudging through this sea of muddy despair.
                  Leo, you are my guiding light, the only light that will lead me out of this cold, dark tunnel. Your infectious smile gives me courage. Your warm embraces give me strength, and the sparkle in your bright blue eyes gives me hope.